The Morticians Granddaughter
by Sixx Killer
Summary: When Blaze's mum died, Andy Biersack/Sixx is forced to take care of her. Though he doesn't believe this girl is his daughter. With the stress of tour getting to everyone, they didn't need another person. Can Andy ever love this girl? Will Juliet ever accept her? There's more to this girl than he knows though, secrets she has hidden for and maybe fate had given him a second chance.
1. I Open My Lungs Dear

**Blaze Biersack**

I wouldn't say my life was perfect back then. Far from it to be honest. My life was happier though. I didn't care that I lived in a strict Christian village. I didn't care the village hated me for my father. I didn't even care that I had spent the last few years being bullied. I was still happy. I had a dream back then, and one person who believed in me. That's all I needed in the end, was just one person. Then it happened.

My mum was so happy, I never would of expected it. She always smiled whenever she saw me, and told me how life would always be better in the end. She used to tell me storeys about my father, and sing to me when I couldn't sleep. She was so uplifting and joyful, no one, not even the church leader thought my mum would do it. How would anyone of known? How could they? She hid her pain so well. I should've noticed though. That odd sadness that appeared in her eye whenever she talked about dad. The nights she spent awake crying. I just never thought it would lead to this though.

"Come on dear, you need to get change already, we need to leave soon." Mrs Reed said, she came back into my bedroom. Mrs Reed was my social worker, she'd been looking after me this week, until my dad could come and look after me. I couldn't believe that. They're just going to whisk me of with a man I've never met, because they couldn't be bothered with me. I know I've always wanted to see my dad, but I wanted him to meet me because he wanted too. Not because the government have practically forced him too. I didn't mind Mrs Reed though. She was a really kind women, who seemed to care about me. Just like mum used too.

I didn't want to go, I didn't want to move. I wanted to stay sat down on my bed, and just wait till time killed me off. That wasn't possible though, after all, what sort of child would not attend their mothers own funeral. I sighed and got up, ignored the clothes Mrs Reed had set out for me, I knew what I was going to wear. I was NOT a girly sort of person, so when my mum showed me her old dress, she already knew I would very rarely wear it. She loved me in it though, it was her old dress from a photo shoot years ago. If this was my last time seeing her though, I wanted to wear it, in respect of her.

I looked at the old black dress. It was a simple design. Plain black, with a skirt that flared out in a folded sort of fashion, and ended just below my thigh. I placed on the matching jacket mum wore with it, plain black leather with a red badge on the right sleeve, and a white badge where my heart was. Putting on some ripped tights and black lace up boots, I sighed as I looked in the mirror, at least I looked presentable.

"Come on now." Mrs Reed walked in and gasped.

"Well just look at you. You're a spitting image of your mother." I laughed not often I was told that. Most of the time I was told I was a lot like my father.

"I'll tell you what; I bet your mother is smiling down on you today. Let's go dear." Patting my shoulder she led me out the room, I could only give her a wobbly smile. Mrs Reed was Christian, like everyone else in this dull little village, so of course she'd say that. I couldn't believe it though. I was an atheist and no matter what others say, my mother was dead. Even if she was a Christian, she wouldn't be smiling down on me. She'd probably be in hell. I loved my mother, and as a mum she was amazing. A Christian however, would cringe at some of the things she's done. Sex before marriage. Used the name of god in vain. Lying. Worked on Sunday. Never attended a church in her life. She had pride. She had wrath, after all, when your an actress you have to be strong when something gets in your way. She had envy. Lust.

_Adultery_

I shook my head, trying to ignore my last thought. That was one of the few things that made me angry at mum. Right now, I didn't want to be angry. I didn't think I could be. I silently got into the black car, as it drove us through the village, and toward the church. I wondered though, if she was Christian, would she of ever met dad? Would she ever hurt him like she did? Would we be a happy family? Would she be happy?

I felt a pain in my chest. It was my fault she was dead. If I had just kept my mouth quiet, or noticed her pain. If I had just stopped myself before bringing dad up. IF only she told me that the thought of him hurt her, I wouldn't change for anyone in this village, but if being like him hurt her so much, I would've of done it. I would've of changed so I stopped hurting her. I held back a sob, I wouldn't cry. I never cry. If you cry, people see your weakness, and they'll use that weakness to against you. Is that why you never cried in front of me mum?

As we arrived at the funeral, I saw some people had already arrived. My eyes were locked on one pair though. A man, with shoulder length black hair, shaved at one side. His eyes shined blue, just like my own, and his lip and nose piercing glittered in the dull sunlight. By his side a woman, with long blonde hair and faded green eyes. I gritted my teeth. This was their fault! My mum may have sinned but they hurt her first! They did this! Led her to this. I got out the car but with every step I took the more painful it became to walk. Every day she must have seen them like that. It must have haunted her every fucking day! And I never knew.

_Then she'd see you, and see him in you._

Oh mum. Now I see it. Now I see how much pain you must have been in. It's my fault as well. You were a good person why are you dead? I couldn't walk, my knees ached, as the reality of it all came crashing down. My mum was in that coffin! I didn't want to cry. I couldn't hold back any longer though. It hurt. My chest hurt. My head! I collapsed, letting out a cry. Tears streamed down my face, as I let out sob after sob. My plan of entering quietly was shattered. As I curled up and cried. I heard someone next to me; I think it was Mrs Reed, comforting me, telling me I was strong and that I could do this. Why was she taken from me? Why did she do this? She was such a good person god damn it! Why?

What was to come of life?


	2. I Sing This Song At Funerals

Andy Biersack

"I want a DNA test!" I demanded. We were sat in a gloomy ass car, with two gloomy ass social workers in the front. I honestly was shocked; did these people have no respect for the dead? We're going to a god damn funeral!

"A DNA test?" The female driver asked.

"Yes, though dead, it's no secret Scout wasn't only fucking Andy during that point in time." Juliet snapped I couldn't blame her; I was getting sick of this too. I took her hand in an attempt to comfort her; causing her crimson charm to rattle against the bumpy road. She insisted on wearing it, apparently the red lifted the outfit a little, from the gloomy thin black dress she was wearing.

"Yes, but Scout always insisted that this child was Andy's. Do you have any respect for the dead?" Oh the irony of that statement.

"Anyway, from what we heard, Scout was not the only person who had done wrong." I looked down in shame. We were young, naïve, and we both made mistakes.

"We're not here to discuss his relationship are we?" Juliet retaliated, sensing my discomfort.

"No, we are not. I must warn you though, Mr Biersack, DNA tests cost money, and unless you're on Jeremy Kyle, you'll have to get one through the government. It could easily take months for them to approve." She replied with damn monotone voice of hers. I bet she wore the pants in her relationship.

"That's not possible! I have a tour, starting tomorrow!" I tried to make the urgency clear in my voice.

"That's not my problem Mr Biersack." With that, the conversation was over. The ball was in my court, but I didn't have a racket to swing. The rest of the journey was travelled in silence, as I stared aimlessly out the window, smiling as we entered the old village. The crappy little place hadn't changed one bit! Old memories of Scout and me returned, happy ones which I had hidden for years, buried in sadness and anger.

Like the time when we stole some alcohol from the shop, and ran away thinking we were badass. Or the time when the carnival that was in town, and I won her a stuffed black bear. We named it Jeremy, because it had a pointy nose like Jinxx. As we came to a stop at one of the only traffic lights in the village, I found myself staring at the old high school where I first met her.

_I had just ran away from a bunch of assholes, and was enjoying the shade of the tree, when this strange girl approached me._

"Hey." She smiled, her voice was unusually high pitched and cute.

"Erm, can I help you?" I used suck at socialising back then.

"Not really." She smiled, as she sat down.

"What are you doing here?" I asked, more curious than mean.

"Well, I'm sitting next to you, having lunch and skipping class." She was such a strange girl.

"Why would you hang with me? I'm not one of those jocks you know." I said venomously.

"I know. That's why I'm here with you. You're different." She giggled.

"That's a good thing?" I had never been told that.

"Well…It's not a bad thing. So if it's not bad, then it must be good, right?"

"I guess."

Scout was always the bizarre girl. We didn't date until years after that. We weren't even dating when we had our first kiss. I laughed. She literally grabbed me from alley way and shoved me into a kiss. The problem was, I didn't expect it, so it felt more like she was sucking my soul out. I showed her a few nights after what a proper kiss was of course.

Oh Scout, what happened to you? You seemed so happy. I just don't know what could of driven you to suicide. The only answer I seem to come up with, is your break up with Samuel. I still held venom for that name. That man was the guy Scout cheated on me with. That's all I had of him, a name. I never met him, never even heard of him till that point. I never did get to find out who he was, and now I never would. A name. A name broke up our relationship. That owner of that name would never know how much he hurt me as a young lad. Now he had hurt Scout.

It's strange; it's as if in death, the sins of someone can be forgiven. All the anger which I held for Scout diminished, I now pitied her, and pitied the fact that she broke up with Samuel. No longer did I laugh at it. No longer felt the need to be spiteful. She's paid her price in the end. Once again, I found myself wishing, that all my beliefs on god and the afterlife, was incorrect.

Finally we arrived at the funeral, as the car parked, the male in the passenger seat spoke.

"Listen; in my eyes you have a choice. You can miss a lot of your tour, get a DNA test now, OR, you take the kid on tour with you, and later, you can get a DNA test, that's if you still want one." Please, that child wasn't mine. Couldn't be mine. If it was mine, Scout never would have cheated on me. Why would I change my mind over tour? I sighed; it became pretty clear I only had one choice.

"Fine, I'll take the second, but don't think I'll change my views on this girl." With that I got out the car, and was joined by Juliet. Fuck them, fucking prudes.

We met up with Jinxx and Sammi before the funeral began, they too wanted to pay their respects. I had to admit, it shocked all of us to discover Scout had died. It shocked everyone! Not a single person could have seen it coming. Not even her daughter supposedly. I'm not even sure what happened, the police kept the entire situation under wraps. All I knew was one night scout's daughter went down stairs, to find her mother dead. A bullet to the head killed her the second it hit the brain. The gun was in her hand, and a note in her writing was next the body. No possible struggle and no break in. It was suicide.

Me and Juliet walked up to stand at the far end of the grass. Waiting silently for the session to begin, neither of us knew what to say. What was there to say? Juliet may have fallen out with her, but there was still a part of her which saw Scout as a friend. We may have betrayed each other, but there was still a piece of my heart that belonged with her. To be buried along with the body. I heard a cry from behind me, and murmuring of people, turning round, I saw some poor young girl on the floor. I couldn't see much about her, as long thick black hair covered her face. It was streaked with feather and braids, adding to the thickness, almost as if she'd visited a Native American hair salon. She was crouched in a tight ball sobbing and whimpering, as I saw an older women approach the girl. Well, at least now someone was looking after her, must have been a close friend or something.

I sighed as my thoughts travelled to my supposed daughter. How did I know she wasn't mine? Simple, if she was mine Scout would have never cheated on me. Not if she was pregnant. I knew Scout and she would never have done that. She would've made me aware from the start the child was mine, I mean, why wouldn't she? She knows I would never have been ashamed to have had a daughter. That kid was someone else's, and clearly Scout was now trying to use her relationship with me, as a way to make sure the daughter got some cash, or something, I didn't know. I groaned, I pitied the poor girl. I wasn't angry at her, how could I be? Whoever she was, it wasn't her fault she was being stuck with a stranger, it was Scouts. Right now at her funeral though, I don't feel it appropriate for me to get angry at her.

Everyone had arrived, and the funeral began. As we stood in a circle, on that warm day. The sunlight seemed gloomy, as the vicar began to read things from the bible. I looked at the ground, after my granddad's funeral, I never wanted to be in this position again. Staring at a wooden coffin, knowing inside was a loved one now gone forever. Hearing people talk about their spirit moving on and looking over us, and know that in my heart would never be able to believe in those lies. My dependence on proof and logic blocked me from holding such spiritual hope. No, inside that coffin was Scout. All that was Scout and all she will ever be. She is nowhere else but there. Like my granddad she'll be buried and left to rot. Her shiny brown locks will be destroyed, and her bright red lips will fade and disappear, before they are nothing but pure white. There was one question that remained. One question on everyone's lips. One question I don't think will ever have an answer now. Why? Why did Scout do it? What happened that was so bad, it made a women so happy and joyful kill herself?

What was she hiding? Did she ever tell?

As the funeral came to an end, I heard a rumbling. My eyes parted with the floor for the first time in an hour, and looked to the sky. Storm clouds were approaching. We all began to head inside, for dinks and to warm up, the air had long since become chilly; and just in time, as rain began to pour, soaking the grey headstone; the only evidence that Scout ever existed.

The inside of the church was beautiful. One thing I always admired religion for was its beauty. The way it would take great pride in its holy places. The church was long and rather wide, and the room we were in was lined with big wood burning and coal fires on the right side. The left was decorated with grand gold painting, depicting different scenes of the bible. There was a glass stained window and alter at the front, representing baby Jesus and mother Mary, the usual halos around their heads, while at the back of the room was a great big oak door in which we entered. Above it read, 'For if you forgive men when they sin against you, your heavenly Father will also forgive you. But if you do not forgive men their sins, your Father will not forgive your sins.' I laughed emotionlessly. It seemed as if the church itself wanted to make me feel guilty. Damn you nonexistent god.

"Excuse me, Mr Biersack?" I looked round to see a young boy stood behind me. He was only a few inches of my height, but was clearly younger than me, about 18/19. He was a little tanned and had long dreaded hair, which was tied up and reached his upper back. His eyes were hazel, and two snake bites shone silver from his mouth.

"Erm, yes?" Please don't be a fan. As much as I love my fans, now really wasn't the appropriate time or place, on top of all that I still have a supposed daughter to see.

"Sorry, I'm the vicar's son, he asked me to give you this." I laughed as he said that. I'm sorry but if this is the vicars son, then something tells me he doesn't get on with his dad. For started he was wearing a black Iron Maiden shirt, accompanied by black ripped skinnies. I also noticed tattoos on his arm, and I'm sorry, but when was the last time you saw a vicar with rockish tattoo's on him? Passing me a white envelope, he picked up on the weird look I gave him, and laughed himself.

"Yeh I know, I don't look or act like a vicar's kid. It's taken 17 years but I think my dad's finally starting to understand I'm just not going to be a Christian." 17? Meh, I was close enough.

" I feel for you kid, I'll say that much." I chuckled. Looking down at the envelope my heart sunk. The word Andy was written on the cover, in neat italic writing, that looked like the writing of someone from the Victorian era. This was a message from Scout. Taking a deep breath, I opened up the envelope, and read her final words to me.

_Dear Andy,_

I will be dead by the time you get this; I have no doubt about that. Yes, I did take my own life.

Why?

Because I couldn't handle it anymore. There are secrets I've hid from you and lies I've been forced to say to you, and I'm sorry. I'm sorry for everything I've done in my life, and for all the pain I've caused you. You're happy now though, I can see that much, and I hope you remain happy for the rest of your life.

Knowing you, you will not believe the child I leave you with is your daughter. This may be hard for you, but you must trust me when I say she is. I'm not sure whether you have seen her or not, but everyone is always saying how she looks like you, and she does. A spitting image of her father that girl is.

I thought I may as well tell you myself, how much you mean to this girl. Though you have not been in her life, you have always been an influence. From the very start I've never left you out, or kept you a secret to her. In fact, I probably went on about you too much at points.

You are this girl's father, and so I leave her in your hands to raise up correctly. Know that over the years I have always tried to be a good mother, I cannot say was the best mother ever, but I have been the bet mother that was possible of me. This child is my world, and for a long time, the only thing that kept me going. Now the time has come though, were she must move on from this crappy village and blossom like her father. Please, I beg of you, take her under your wing, look after her. She acts strong but she's still a child, one who is naive to the cruel outside world. Treat her with care.

I love her.

Love From

Scout Xxx

I read the note over a few times as tears began to swell. I'm sorry Scout, but I know she isn't mine. I know she's some else's. You may have lied to give her a better life, but how can I care for something that isn't mine? I sighed. Walking over the alter I stood, and for the first time in my life, I said a prayer. A promise to someone who had already departed.

"I promise you this much Scout, while this girl is on tour with me, I will try and teach her about the world. I will try to look after her, and give her the skills needed, and I will help her find her real father after this tour. That's the most I can do." I felt a cold hand touch my shoulder, and turned to see Juliet by my side. She'd been crying, I could tell.

"You don't have to do all this." She whispered.

"I do, I owe it to Scout."

"But you don't. She lied to you, and that child is not yours. That is a strangers kid, who'll be using your hard earned money for their own use." I sighed. I understood what she was saying, but I already made a promise, and I couldn't go back, not after the note Scout gave me. Placing it my pocket I thought it best not to mention it to Juliet. Not that I didn't trust her, but in the end, it was clear Scout wanted only me to read it.

"Come on, let's just go." I whispered, after all I needed rest. Tomorrow we started tour. Tomorrow, I was going to meet my apparent daughter.

I was the first to leave, Juliet wanted to say goodbye to some people first. Opening an umbrella, I battled the element, as I headed to the car. The sun was beginning to set as the storm cloud carried on rumbling in, and I looked over one final time to Scouts grave. That's when I saw her. Stood by the grave her hair was dripping wet, her dress had gone flat by the rain. Make up smeared by tears drops, and her pale skin was almost blue as her body froze.

She was staring at me, and I stared back. Though her lips were bright red like her mother, her eyes shined an ice blue through her hair. I had seen those eyes before, a few years ago. I had seen them when I was staring in a mirror, which was stained with my own blood. I had punched it, and the reflection was cracked. Those eyes shined back at me though, those sad blue eyes. His band was failing, he had lost all hope, with only 6 dollars left, the love his life had just broke his heart. His eyes were dead and broken, lost without hope. Looking at her was like looking in a time machine, and seeing myself all those years back. She looked away from me, and I quickly walked off, because that scared me. Her eyes were like his, the man in my mirrors, and that terrified me. No human should be that broken


	3. No Rush

**Blaze Biersack**

I was drenched, I didn't care, I just wanted the ground to swallow me whole and drag me down to hell. Did you see how he looked at me, with hatred! That's how he looked at me, with absolute disgust and hatred! I know he did, because he just flinched and walked off. Do I disgust him, is that why? Am I that worthless?

"Hey, you're going to catch your death of cold out here." I heard someone say, a deep comforting voice I recognised to well.

"I don't care." I whispered.

"Well I do. I don't want you to leave me." He whispered, gently kissing my cheek, and guiding my face to meet his. I looked at him for a second, before he pulled me into a hug, his strong arms holding me close, and dreaded hair protecting my face from the rain.

"Alex, what if someone sees's you." I was worried; I and Alex had been secretly dating for 3 years now. Never dated anyone else, and never will. We had to keep it quiet though, since Alex was the Vicars son. His real name was Alexander, his father claimed he was named after the great St. Alexander of Jerusalem, whoever he was. To me though, he was just Alex, my Alex. The only person in the village who didn't judge me because of my father. Like I said, just because I got outcasted didn't mean I wasn't happy. I had my mum and I had Alex, it was the three of us, and that made me luckiest and happiest girl in the world. There were only two of us now though, and soon I would be leaving him. I began to cry into his shoulder as he held me tighter, whispering sweet nothing, and telling me he didn't care if we got caught. He was always there when I needed him, how the hell was I going to live without him?

"I miss you." I cried.

"But I'm not even gone yet." He laughed sadly. He was soaked too, as the rain came down even worse. I barley felt it though.

"We need to get back, Mrs Reed wants to leave." He said, breaking the hug, but keeping our hadn held together. I looked silently down at where we touched. This might be the last time I ever get to hold them. "I don't want to go." I whimpered.

"How are you going to get back though" Damn you logic!

"I'll walk."

"What? All the way home?"

"It won't kill me." He sighed, as his grip tightened and he began to pull me toward the path, away from my mum's grave.

"What are you doing?" I would struggle against him, but my trust in him told me not too.

"Well, if we're walking home, we best start." He grinned.

"But you live in the opposite direction!"

"So, I'll stay over." TO anyone else, he would of probably appeared expectant and rude, but this had long since become the norm. Mum was always in on our secret, from the very start. Alex used to always come round mine, because it was the only time we ever truly got to be together as a couple. My mum would always laugh at us, and call us the impossible couple. The daughter of a Rock star, and Son of a vicar, I guess we were a bizarre pair. It worked though. We held hands on the way home, the rain and low mist covering us, allowing us to spend our last night as a couple. We talked about old memories, and the good times we had together.

"Hey, that's we where we first met!" He said, pointing to a closed down café. "Yeh!" I never believe in fate or destiny, so that day, I must've of been really lucky.__

The lights were sparkling, as the café seemed so beautiful at night. There had been a big party, to celebrate the new vicar's arrival, but it had long since died down. Mum was inside with some women talking, so I just sat on one of the white tables outside, staring at the sky. The stars reminded me of tiny glitter beads, like someone had spilled a pot of them all over the sky. There was a dance floor in the centre, were adults all seemed to be dancing together. Suddenly a lad, who seemed my age ran past, and ducked behind my chair. His long hair had been dreaded and tied back; he wore a white shirt, all untucked and a pair of black jeans. I remember that my black and red dress was a little long for me, and covered any gaps at the bottom of the chair as it hung down. Alex claimed he hid there because he was entranced by my beauty. I'm pretty sure though he hid there because my dress covered all the holes in the chair. He placed his finger to his lips, a sign to not say anything.

"Alexander, Alexander where are you are you?" A saw an old man approach me, he wore a suit, and had a large cross round his neck.

"Can I help you vicar?" I asked politely, my mum told e to be respectful to your elders, and I tried to, though my school teacher might disagree with me on that. I saw him flinch when he noticed who was speaking to him, and that hurt. They always did that, the adults. Look at me as if I was some disease that needed to be killed. My mum always told me it was because I was like my father, and that scared them. As a child my dad was a rebel, he would annoy people, and believed in the freedom of speech. He would be wild and have fun, and accidently offended many people. They feared I would turn out like that too. Maybe I wouldn't have if they weren't so cold. IT was there treatment and belief, which created a lot of my own characteristics. They encouraged me to look for my dad, because I had no one else to look up too. By looking for my dad, I was influenced by him, even if he wasn't there in person.

The vicar just walked away from me, still calling the name Alexander.

"Wow, thank dude." The kid popped up and smiled at me.

"Your welcome?" I looked at him confused.

"So who are you?" he said, sitting down at the table, why wasn't he ignoring me?

"Erm, I'm Blaze." Is aid, afraid to say my last name because he could run off like all the rest?

"I'm Alex!" He boasted, as if name meant something great.

"How old are you Blaze, because you look like 15 or something."

"13, you?" My age was always over guessed due to my height.

"14!" That when the music changed, and began to slow down, and a familiar song began to play.

I open my lungs dear,

I sing this song at funerals, no rush…

I smiled, a loved that song.

"So Blaze, want to dance?" He asked, opening his hand for me to take. I had never danced before. Nervously I took it, and we began dancing to my favourite song. Adults crowded a cooed at the sight, but I didn't notice, I was so happy in his arms. As the song ended, Alex held me in his arms, and whispered softly in my ear,

"Can I keep you?" I blushed, and buried my face in his neck.

"Always." I replied, he began to grin.

"And forever" He finished.

Always and Forever. Those two words became our little rhyme. Two words that belonged to us. Me and Alex against the world, Always and Forever.

When we got home, I grabbed a shower while Alex built up the fire. We sat together in the living room just watching the flames flicker. I laid my head on his lap, and Alex just stroked my hair.

"Why don't we go to bed?" I just shook my head in response.

"Why?" Alex asked.

"Because I don't want to fall asleep. I don't want tomorrow to come." He sighed and pulled me closer.

"I'm in no rush for tomorrow either, but I'm always a phone call away. No matter where you go, or who you go with, you're mine remember. My adorable Black Bunny, that won't ever change. I smiled at the nickname; Alex would never tell me why he gave it to me. I just accepted it over the years.

"Always?" I asked, he just smiled.

"Forever." AS the room entered silence again, I closed my eyes in a pathetic attempt to get some sleep. That's when I heard Alex begin to sing to me. Alex had such a beautiful voice.

"I open my lungs dear,

I sing this song at funerals, no rush,

These lyrics sung a thousand times, just hush…" I loved that song. It meant so much to me. It was always in my life, ever since I was a child.  
_  
"MUMMY!" I screamed in the middle of the night. Awake, face sweating in terror, as the women came rushing into my room. She sat down and held me tight as I began to cry, she tried to calm me down. I buried my face into her side, the women smelt of daffodils. Even in her over sized pyjama, at the middle of the night, she somehow still seemed to smell of daffodils._

"Why are you crying dear?" she asked softly, not at all mad that I had woken her in the middle of the night.

"I had a bad dream, where a bad man came in, and he tried to kill you mummy!" I sobbed, as she placed me back down on the bed, looking at me with deep caring eyes, which held only love towards me.

"Don't worry, nothing will happen to me. As long as you need me, I'll be here." She said, trying to leave I just grabbed her, pulling her back.

"I can't sleep, I'm too scared." I whimpered. She only chuckled, and laid down beside me, pulling me back into her. I held onto her, comforted by her presence. She began to sing, a song that seemed so familiar but I couldn't remember it. As she sung, I began to feel sleepy, and began to drift off to the soft melody.

"We booked our flight those years ago;  
I said I love you as I left you.  
Regrets still haunt my hollow head,  
I promised you, I will see you again…"

She used to sing that song when I was in her womb; she then sung it again at the age of 5 when I woke up from a nightmare. For 5 years after that I suffered from bad night terrors, waking up most nights screaming. Every night she would come in, and patiently calm me down. She was never angry, or stressed. She would then sing that song to me, singing me to sleep. Every night, sometimes more than twice a night, singing Mortician Daughter to me. IT became my comfort song. It made me think of her, and whenever I got scared, I would think or sing that song because it made me feel less afraid. I met Alex to that song, and it became a song I could also share with him. It was always there in my life.

Like I did 11 years ago, I fell asleep to that song, as Alex sang it to me. I fell asleep, thinking of mum

_"Hey mummy, why do you like that song?" I asked._

"Because, your daddy wrote it for me." She replied sadly, leaning against the kitchen table, looking out the window, watching the rain fall heavily.

"Oh. Why did Daddy leave you?" I asked, I watched as her face began t show pain, and If eared I had said something to upset her. On instinct, I cuddle into her, trying to show her I didn't want her to cry.

"Because baby, I lied to him. I told daddy a really bad lie, that broke his heart…"


End file.
